Just Not Worth It Anymore
by FloridaorBust151
Summary: I can't fight the darkness anymore, I wave my white flag of surrender.Contains dark thoughts, and eventual character suicide. Please read and review!


**A/N: I was in the middle of typing up a new chapter for "No Man's Land," but this random idea popped into my head, so I decided to run with the little guy. It's a one shot, at the end you'll see why. I've never done a fic like this, so please bear with me. Ok, (cracks knuckles) here we go…**

**Warning: deals with extremely dark thoughts, character suicide. Just thought I'd warn y'all.**

_Just Not Worth It Anymore_

**_Randy's POV:_**

All I could as I walked into the frigid cold funeral home, thinking about what had gone wrong. How did we let this go so far? What pushed her over the edge? Shit, who am I kidding, I know full well that I am part to blame for all of this. This whole thing was mostly thanks to me, Randall Keith Orton, third generation WWE superstar. Or in other words, a cold-hearted prick who let the fame get to his head. I am an inconsiderate asshole; I just wish that it hadn't this to make me realize it.

I got in line behind some of my fellow co-workers, and couldn't look up. I starred at my feet, and listened to the muffled sobs all around me. I saw a tear fall onto my shoe, and quickly wiped my eyes. I managed to look up when I was five people away from the casket. I saw Torrie about pass out when she looked down into the casket. Billy held her up, and gently stroked her head as she began sobbing. He slowly maneuvered her away, and led her to a section of open chairs. A few people that I didn't know gazed down and then went towards the back of the room, crying. My turn finally came, and I gazed down into the casket. She still looked so beautiful, so perfect, so…Stacy.

I felt my legs give out, and fell to my knees before her casket. Why was Stacy lying here in a casket? Why was my one time love now dead before me? Why had Stacy Marie Keibler killed herself?

_**Two day's prior, Stacy's POV**_:

I am fighting a losing battle. I don't even know why I bother, it's really not worth it anymore. The only things I feel, as of late have been hurt and cold. I have been fighting back the darkness for so many years, but I can't fight it anymore. The darkness has consumed all of me, and it is killing me little by little. I have no one, no one that really cares at least. I Am Nothing.

Torrie said ever since the Randy incident that I've been different, well she's wrong. I have always felt this way, I've just done a good job of hiding it. I can't hide it anymore. I can't keep the real Stacy hidden behind the upbeat cheery, all American sweetheart Stacy. That Stacy never existed. It's always been the real me underneath it all, the depressed, worthless, Stacy Marie Keibler.

For a while there I thought that I had won the battle with the darkness. I thought that I had been loved. I was stupid though, love cannot conquer all. That is just some dumb idea that some jackass puts in everyone's heads. Love, ha! Just look at where that got me; RKO'd in the middle of the ring, by a man who SAID that he loved me. I can't believe that I actually believed him; I am so stupid. Randy Orton never loved me, he just saw me for what all other men have seen me for, a pair of long legs with a pretty face.

I should've figured it out sooner though, I should've known that he was too good to be true. Nobody had ever treated me so great, no one. I should've recognized that I would wind up a pawn in his game with the Undertaker. Why am I such a frickin idiot?

I am so sick and tired of being the pawn, I'm tired of getting played with and winding up broken. I'm tired of feeling so alone and cold. I'm tired of being me, and I'm tired of being alive in this heartless world. The medication that the doctor prescribed for me hasn't helped at all; the sleeping pills don't help me fall asleep, the depression meds don't contain my feelings, the vicadin doesn't get rid of the pain. I am numb to them all.

My family doesn't give me refuge, my friends smile but I know deep down inside they don't understand me, I have no one in the world, no one at all. I just want some one to love me, I need to be loved. Well, that probably won't happen, guess I should just give up.

As I sit here in my cold bedroom, I can feel the darkness consume me fully, mind body and soul. I haven't shown up to work in two days, and haven't even received a phone call. They probably haven't realized that I'm missing. Why doesn't anyone love me?

I stare at my mirror across from me on the wall. I look and look, but I don't recognize the girl staring back at me. The girl who used to gaze back at me had bright eyes, and a smile on her face. No, this girl is different. She has dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, and she looks aged beyond her years. The girl in the mirror isn't Stacy Keibler, Babe of The Year, it's just…me.

I see myself begin to shake, and shut my eyes. I am giving up the constant battle. I can't put up a fight anymore. I am tired of being tired. Getting up and walking into my pristine bathroom, I see my assortment of pills sitting on the counter. The pills don't even care about me anymore, since they can't seem to work. I reach for my bottle of Vicadin, and swallow each last pill left in the bottle. Then I reach for my sleeping pills. I take a handful, and let the few remainders fall on the bathroom floor. I can feel my heart pounding with anticipation, but still can't get rid of the darkness. I grab my razor that is sitting on the counter also, and clutch it in my hand. As I sit on the ground I see nothing, feel nothing. I take my shaky hand, and make two slices on each wrist, still feeling nothing.

I close my eyes, and see all darkness. I feel the tears falling down my cheeks, but that is it. Opening my eyes, I see the blood from my wrists beginning to form a crimson pool on the white tiles. My head begins spinning, and my eyes close once again. I feel myself beginning to drift away, into nothingness and darkness.

I have waved the white flag…the darkness always wins.

**_Randy's POV:_**

I had managed to get back to my feet, and went to sit down. Throughout the whole funeral I could feel everyone's eyes starring at me, and I knew that they are all blaming this on me. I am the one who broke Stacy's heart, I am the one that pushed her over the edge.

Truth is, I don't deserve to live in this world. Good people like Stacy should fill the earth, not scum like me.

I am the last one remaining at Stacy's grave. Everyone else has made their way back to their cars, leaving Stacy 6 feet below. I stick my hand in my pocket, and feel the coolness of the gun that I had stashed away. Pulling it out, I carefully load it with the one bullet I brought along. My hand begins to tremble as I place the gun against my head.

The coolness of the gun on my skin sends chills down my spine, and take a deep breath as I place my hand on the trigger. This is it, I will spill my blood on Stacy's grave as my last chance of apologizing. One pull of this trigger and I am dead. I take a deep breath, and whisper, "Stacy, I love you. I always loved you." With that said, I close my eyes and pull the trigger…

**A/N: Yes, this was a DOWNER with all caps! I don't know where this came from, but I just had to write this. I have nothing against Stacy and Randy, I love them both, but they were just the ones that popped into my head with this story. Obviously, this has to be a one-shot. Please review, even if it's a hate review.**


End file.
